


if you were church

by IWillNotBeSilenced



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Canon verse, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Very light smut, elaboration, pynch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 09:10:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18588181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillNotBeSilenced/pseuds/IWillNotBeSilenced
Summary: Adam thinks he might die if he doesn't touch Ronan. Ronan thinks he might die if he does.





	if you were church

They sit beside each other on Ronan’s bed.

The air between them feels charged and Adam can only remember being this aware of negative space in the moments between his father raising his hand and said hand making contact with some part of Adam and it didn’t feel even remotely like this. His heart is bottoming out in the same way, but there was never this uncertainty or unpredictability. Adam knew his father would hit him and he was so familiar with how that played out that he almost felt it before it happened. By contrast, he has absolutely no idea what Ronan can or will do and even less how he, Adam, might respond to it. 

Unable to fight the compulsion any longer, he lifts his head and finds Ronan already looking at him with an intensity that makes Adam’s skin buzz. Ronan’s eyes are dark and Adam can’t tell if it’s with desire or fear or that inherent, hopeful darkness that lives at the core of Ronan Lynch but it is unmistakably want. It hits Adam low in his stomach and his heart jumps in his chest. He can’t move. He isn’t sure he can stop himself moving. His hands grip each other, white knuckled and clammy with anticipation. He wasn’t sure before, but the certainty that rises within him now has almost undoubtedly been lying dormant within him since he first saw Ronan’s shaved head sunk low in the driving seat of the BMW. It has to have been. Or maybe it was slower, a quiet unfurling over time in which each of them lost and found parts of themselves that both thought impossible, unknowable, strange. The coming together of two untouchable people. Touching. Yes, Adam could get on board with that. 

Ronan’s eyes flick to Adam’s lips so quickly that anyone who wasn’t Adam would have missed it. The unknowing is gone. Adam can feel Ronan, his need, if he thinks about it, and he nods so imperceptibly that he has to hope that Ronan can feel him too.

He does.

Ronan surges forward and Adam is leaning back with the force of it, but Adam is well versed in meeting Ronan’s storms head on and he pushes back until they find a middle ground, both pushing and pulling, giving and taking, their mouths moving against each other in a way that Adam can feel in far more of him than his lips where Ronan’s meet his. Ronan’s hand comes to rest at the base of Adam’s neck, spread so that his thumb presses against the pulse in his throat and Adam doesn’t trust himself to touch Ronan without exploding so he leans forward on his hands and curls his fingers in the sheets beneath them. Ronan’s mouth opens for Adam and he slides his tongue over Adam’s and Adam says ‘Ronan’ somewhere between a sigh and a groan, mumbled against the other boy’s mouth and Ronan’s fingers tighten in Adam’s hair and Adam feels Ronan’s breath catch and his hips twitch forwards and Adam moves so that his knees are either side of Ronan’s bent leg and   
Ronan brings up his other to press against Adam’s back and Adam could honest to god get Ronan’s thigh or crotch or torso under him and grind if he was given an inch but instead he pulls back, startled into laughter by the impulse and Ronan’s eyes are so bright and he can’t breathe he can’t breathe –

‘Oh.’ He exhales, finally, in the sliver of space between them, Ronan’s hand still at his neck, the other tangled in his curls like a lifeline. It could well be, Adam knew. That was Ronan, the intensity, the desperation, the rawness that invaded his every action, every thought he had. Everything was life or death. It had had to be, for both of them. 

‘Oh.’ Ronan grins, not mocking for once, a razor blade smile for a razor blade boy and Adam wants to touch him. His lips, his cheekbones, his neck, his everything and everywhere. Ronan Lynch would not be unknowable. Not to Adam Parrish. 

Adam settles for pressing their foreheads together and grinning back because he can’t not. Adam’s smile is the first blush of sun in spring, so long awaited, and it makes Ronan wonder if he could possibly dream something so lovely. He knows he could, of course, but the fact that he hasn’t makes Adam that much more wondrous. Ronan is powerless in the face of it and he is alive alive alive. It’s better than street racing, better than dreaming. It’s like absolution. Ronan feels worth something, at last, at last.

He brings his hands down to Adam’s waist and grabs him there, pulling Adam against him again and laughing against his mouth, low and wild and Adam grins into it so wide that Ronan’s tongue licks his teeth and it’s messy and blissful and pretty close to perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> My current state of being is just constant internal excited vibration for Call Down the Hawk so if you need me you'll find me vibrating my way into the stratosphere. Please leave kudos and comments to coax me back down.


End file.
